


A Mile In Your Shoes

by Infinitefleurs



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Drug Use, F/F, M/M, and so does elsa, basically everyone's in love, elsa is the vice cop and roy is the jazz singer at the blue room, i'll add more to these as i go along but basically, marie is here and she deserves better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-28 21:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinitefleurs/pseuds/Infinitefleurs
Summary: Detective Elsa Lichtmann lives a glamorous life as the chief detective of Ad Vice, but has a little secret that could jeopardize her position. Roy Earle leads a troubled past as well as a morphine addiction as he sings at the Blue Room.Things can only get more complicated as Cole Phelps, the new rising star of the LAPD, joins the fray.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> basically i had a brief roleplay with oni and cole in the la noire discord and i wanted to make it into a fic! enjoy!

Cole brushes off the dust from his shoulder as he holsters his gun. The movie set had almost come crashing down on him and his partner along with McAfee’s cronies, but they had gotten the job done. Stefan offers him a pat on the back and Leary soon arrives on the scene, a satisfied look on his face.

“Now this is what I call a result!” Leary claps his hands for emphasis, beaming at the two men. “Thanks to you boys, Bishop catches a fast ticket to Quentin for statch rape and attempted murder. That is justice with a capital J, Detective Phelps.”

Cole offers a nod, and Leary holds out his hand for the other to shake.

“You’ve made such a reputation for yourself that I can’t hold onto you for any longer. You’re getting promoted. Go on, get your new assignment. It was good working with you, son.”

Cole takes the other’s hand and gives a firm shake, returning Leary’s smile. Afterwards, he faces Bekowsky and they shake hands as well. Watching Stefan walk off, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. He had always thought he demonstrated sound police work, but to be promoted this quickly? Well, he wasn’t one to brag but he had to admit it felt good.

He’s about to follow Stefan back to the car when someone else rolls onto the scene. Cole raises an eyebrow; whoever it was, they certainly had a taste for the finer things. A brand new Cadillac with a glossy cherry red paint job. The owner soon reveals themselves to be Elsa Lichtmann. There had always been something interesting about her, seeing as she was one of the first female detectives in the LAPD. The woman soon waves out to them, calling their attention.

“Phelps, Bekowsky! Is this your work?”

However, Leary is quick to intervene, calling Elsa over for a moment. “Hold on a moment, Detective. This is a Traffic case. Do you need something?”

“Nothing at all, Captain. I merely wish buy these two men a drink to congratulate them on a job well done, if that’s alright with you.”

The Captain eyes her for a moment, but eventually just shrugs it off. “Go right ahead.”

Calling Cole and Stefan over once again, she gives them a smile. “Hop in boys, I’m buying.”

The drive to Hollywood went off without a hitch, and with some conversation from Elsa’s side. Eventually, a little after the sun has set, the Vice detective pulls up in front of the Blue Room. Stepping out of her car, she beckons for the two to follow. “Do you like jazz, Cole?”

Cole could only shrug. “I suppose so, Elsa. It’s good music.”

Elsa nods and gently pushes the doors of the Blue Room open, greeting Alfonse with a genuine smile. “Good evening, Alfonse. These two men are detectives Cole Phelps and Stefan Bekowsky. We’ll be having my usual table tonight.”

“Very good, Miss Lichtmann. If you’ll follow me?”

“Oh, and one more thing. Is Roy singing tonight?”

“Yes, but ah —” Alfonse purses his lips and beckons for the woman to come closer. He whispers something in her ear and she frowns. With an obviously less cheery tone, she gives him another nod.

“...I see. I suppose we’ll have to pay him a quick visit, then.” Elsa replies, looking over her shoulder. “Follow me, you can meet Roy while they’re setting up a table for us. I’m quite certain you’ll find him to be...good company.”

Cole raises an eyebrow, giving Stefan a wave when the other says he’ll be sitting this one out. “Who’s Roy?”

Elsa takes a glance at him, offering a small smile. “Roy Earle. Why he’s the star of the show, Cole. His voice is simply heavenly. Are you familiar with those stories about sailors and sirens?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at the man.

The man nods, walking just a bit faster so that he was alongside Elsa. “I’ve read a few of those before, yes.”

“Very good, because you’re about to meet one.” Elsa replies, and she pushes the door to the backstage room open. There she sees Roy, who was sitting in front of his vanity, appearing to be in hysterics. His stage manager was seated nearby, looking quite frustrated. And there was the one and only Harlan Fontaine, who seemed to be making an attempt in consoling the troubled jazz singer.

“Hello, Roy. I’d like you to meet Detective Cole Phelps, the rising star of the LAPD.”

Roy was distraught as he took a long drag from his cigarette. How was he supposed to perform like this? As much as he wanted to just leave, his hands were tied. "I don't think you have any idea how much he meant to me, Doctor." He starts, trying to steel himself. He was about to speak again when he hears the door open, as well as a familiar voice. Not even bothering to spare her a glance, he sighs deeply.   
  
"...Elsa. What made you think I wanted to meet another fascist from the LAPD?" He asks, voice tired and resentful.

Immediately, Elsa's expression falls. She lets out a low, dark laugh, cooly making her way over to him and placing her hand on his shoulder. “Look at me,” she commands, voice dangerously calm.   
  
When he finally does look, she winds her arm back and delivers a hard backhand to his cheek. The smack is followed by complete silence— commotion outside of the dressing room seems to have quieted down as well. “Tell me,” Elsa starts, “have you watched your home burn to the ground? Have you come across your mother and father, hand in hand, riddled with bullets and cold to the touch? Have you been forced to leave your country just to survive?” The rage in her voice is palpable. Setting her jaw, she leans in close. “I was in Luxembourg, Roy. Do not forget who you're speaking to.”

Roy inhales sharply as he feels the harsh sting on his cheek. Almost automatically his hand goes up to his cheek, knowing it’ll redden soon. Hopefully it wouldn’t show while he performed later. Sparing a passing glance to his mirror, he sees Cole in the background, expression looking like what appears to be concern. There was no use in replying to the woman. He’d just wish Fontaine would intervene already; he needed another shot badly.

After a few more moments of silence, Elsa speaks again, sounding much more chipper. “Good evening, Doc. And how are you?”

“Just fine, Elsa,” Harlan replies simply, stepping in between her and Roy. “But if you don’t mind, I’m quite busy. I have a patient here to attend to.” Calling for Roy’s stage manager to give him a hand, he holds out Roy’s arm, giving him a quick shot of morphine. It’s a few moments before it looks like it takes any effect, but eventually the jazz singer seems to calm down, taking a few, deep breaths.

Elsa shrugs him off with a wave and returns to Cole. “Oh, I agree, Doctor. It’s best not to be a moment late. Come along now, Detective. Our table should be ready by now.” She gives Cole a quick pat on the shoulder and steps out.

Giving Roy one last glance, Cole follows Elsa out.


	2. The Sailor and His Siren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole finds himself at the Blue Room at every chance he gets and starts a bond with Roy that is anything but risky. Elsa has a little secret of her own, and Marie muses about her husband who is rarely ever home.

Cole found himself visiting the Blue Room more often than he thought.

Whether it was to celebrate closing yet another case, or if he just needed someplace to go to unwind, he’d end up at the jazz club instead of going straight home. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but there was just something incredibly alluring about the joint. The classy atmosphere, the sight of couples dancing on the floor...the singer.

More times than he’d like to admit, he found himself meeting eyes with the troubled jazz singer. Just like now. He wasn’t exactly up close and personal, but somehow he managed to get a table fairly close to the stage. Elsa had been right; Roy’s voice  _ was  _ heavenly. And this time, there was no harsh red mark adorning his cheek. Cole had been so enamored he didn’t even notice Elsa taking the seat opposite of him, a little smirk on her lips.

“Has the siren caught another sailor?” The Vice detective asks, and Cole seems to snap out of it. Facing her, Cole shakes his head, although it looks like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“...Elsa, I didn’t see you there,” Cole replies, doing his best to shrug off her question. “But no, it’s...it’s not that.” He speaks slowly, almost as if he was carefully planning his next move. “I just wanted to relax for a bit, put my feet up, something like that.”

“Plenty of other places in LA to do that, don’t you think?”   


“...Does it matter?”

Elsa raises an eyebrow at him. “I detect a hint of defensiveness in your tone, Detective. But no, I suppose not. The Blue Room is as nice a place as any.” She shrugs, and after a few minutes, she makes her move to leave. “Well, it was lovely seeing you here, Cole, but I’m afraid I must be on my way.”

This time, it’s Cole’s turn to ask questions. “Where to?”

“Does it matter?” Elsa retorts, imitating him. “Ad Vice is a laborious desk, Cole Phelps. As such, my work is never done. Perhaps you’ll see for yourself one of these days?”

Cole manages a chuckle. “Who’s being defensive again? But I just got into Homicide, Elsa. I doubt I’ll be ‘seeing it for myself’ anytime soon.” 

“Touch é, Detective. I’ll be seeing you again soon.” Elsa gives him a small, knowing smile before making her way out of the jazz club.

Cole gives her a little wave and his attention returns to the man on stage. 

Shortly thereafter, Roy takes a little bow and goes offstage. Cole finds himself standing up and walking towards the direction of his dressing room and— _Stop._ God, what was he doing? No, this was— This was turning very risky very quickly. He stops in his tracks and leaves the Blue Room...but he couldn’t find himself to walk off. Looking towards the side of the building, Cole purses his lips. What had he even hoped to accomplish? Pacing back and forth for a few short moments, he makes his way to the back of the Blue Room.

Fortunately enough, he sees Roy there having a smoke. He almost just stands there and stares at how the light just  _ shines  _ on him. He eventually remembers that he’s there for a reason and approaches the jazz singer, giving a little wave to catch his attention.

Roy takes a long drag and looks up, a small frown making its way onto his face when he sees Cole standing there. He’s seen the other man enter the jazz club on multiple occasions; sometimes with Elsa, most of the time alone. He sighs softly, flicking a bit of ash from his cigarette.

“...Detective Phelps. What brings you here?”

“I— I suppose I just wanted to thank you. For a lovely show earlier.”

Roy shrugs. “That’s what I’m here for, I suppose. Was there anything else?”

Cole almost seems hesitant. “Well, I’m not one to bring up past things, but I suppose we started off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry about—” he starts, but Roy raises his hand up, stopping him. He almost appeared to be reading Cole’s expression, although his own only suggested he was exhausted.

“If this is about Elsa, forget it. It was out of line anyways, what I said.”

Cole’s quiet for a moment, and then reaches his hand out. “Well, if it’s anything, I don’t think we’ve, ah, properly met yet. Cole Phelps.”   


For just a moment, Roy’s expression softens. Bless his heart, the gumshoe was actually  _ trying. _ A gentle smile playing at his lips, he takes Cole’s hand and—oh god, were those  _ sparks?  _ Breathing out, he gives it a firm shake. “Roy Earle. You know I— I see you at the club often. There wouldn’t happen to be a reason for that, would it?”

“Well, maybe I just wanted to go and see someone,” Cole replies, and there’s only a hint of flirtiness to it. Letting go of Roy’s hand, he nods. “You, er— I’m sure you’re busy, I should be going anyways and—” off he goes, but the jazz singer stops him again, chuckling.

“I guess so, Cole. I’ll see you soon enough, I hope?”

“Count on it.” Cole gives a little two-fingered salute and with that, walks off.

Once the younger man was out of eyeshot, Roy frowns. Looking at the hand he had shaken Cole’s with, he takes a deep breath. He puts out his cigarette, trampling it underfoot before heading back inside the building.

Meanwhile, Elsa steps out of Harlan Fontaine’s clinic, holding her coat close to her. While the doctor seemed to be interested in discussing the irony of a Vice cop with a morphine addiction, she wasn’t here for it. She gives her pocket that currently held a syrette a pat. As much as she wanted to take the shot now, it would be foolish to do so when she still had some driving to do. She’ll have to save it for later.

Fortunately enough the drive to her apartment didn’t take very long. She takes a few moments to change into into her nightgown, smoothing out the creases before she settles in her armchair. Taking the syrette from her coat pocket, she opens it and jabs it into her arm with some expertise. Breathing out, she relaxes almost immediately, eyes drifting shut for some well needed rest. It’s nearly soundless in her apartment for sometime before her telephone starts ringing. She frowns, almost considering in just letting it ring, but the sound was driving her crazy. Elsa stands up, almost yanking the phone and pressing it to her ear. Even her voice sounded irritated. 

“Elsa Lichtmann speaking,” she says and she listens intently to the other person on the phone. She holds back a sigh. Yet another case that needed to be done. She wishes she was  _ joking  _ when she had told Phelps being in Vice was an arduous task. Regardless, she bids dispatch a farewell and makes her way back to Hollywood station.

It’s nearly midnight when Cole arrives back home. It’s been happening more often lately and he’s certain Marie isn’t too happy about it. Well, he  _ had  _ his reasons for it; a lot of times he’s fallen asleep at the station due to the case he was trying to crack. But now… now there were other reasons. The Blue Room. Pursing his lips, he pushes the door open and he immediately spots Marie in her armchair, busying herself in a novel.

He approaches her, gently calling out, as to not wake the girls in the other room. “Marie? I’m home.”

Marie looks up, giving him a small, tired smile. “There you are, I was starting to get worried,” she murmurs, and she tries to keep herself from frowning. She feels Cole briskly brush his lips against her cheek and she does the same. She’s been more and more upset at how distant the other was slowly becoming. She was happy for him, of course, seeing how quickly he was rising through the ranks… but she couldn’t help but miss him. He’s barely been home for the past few weeks now and she’s done her best not to let her worries get the best of her. Instead, she gives him another smile. “...Where have you been?”

“Another case,” Cole replies, and it’s more of a half-truth than anything. “But I’m home now,” he adds, but somehow… it didn’t  _ feel  _ like home. His thoughts were still on Roy and how elegant he looked singing on the stage at the Blue Room, and how their hands seemed to fit each other perfectly earlier… he pushes the thought aside. “I’m home,” he repeats, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he was. “And you have me. Let’s go to bed.”

Marie sets her book aside. She takes note of the distant expression on his face and she sighs softly. Nodding, she stands up and takes his hand. She gently squeezes it, their fingers loosely linked together. “I have you,” she repeats, but something felt off about it. “Let’s go… Cole?”

Cole returns the little squeeze, tilting his head so he could look at her. “Yes?”

“...Nothing. I love you.”

It takes Cole a moment to reply, because for a moment it wasn’t Marie’s voice he heard. 

“I love you too.”


	3. Manifest Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole finds a new home in Roy, and Marie finds comfort in Elsa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i have a nice big chapter for you all, thanks for sticking around! 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy!

Suffice to say, Cole was ready for a break. 

Weeks and weeks of following leads that only led them to incarcerate the wrong suspects finally ended in a shootout at the abandoned church. He should’ve known that it had been the temp bartender all along; the evidence was right in his face, at the very first case that started this wild goose chase. Nevertheless, Mason was dead and they’ve at least avenged the poor women that had been mercilessly killed. While word of this would never get out, he didn’t care much for it.

However, what he wasn’t expecting was Donnelly clapping him on the back and congratulating him. According to him, he had done so well that the chief of Ad Vice has asked for him personally. He thinks of going home to celebrate… but his mind takes him somewhere else. He bites his lip as he pulls over in front of the Blue Room yet again. Walking through the front doors, he shakes Alfonse’s hand with a genuine smile as he’s let in, sitting at his usual table. Without pausing to think, he gives Roy a wave before realizing what he’s done. He puts his hand down, embarrassed.

Fortunately for him, the jazz singer catches it and gives him a small wave in return, a little smile playing at his lips. He faces Cole for a moment and the detective is  _ certain  _ that Roy is singing just for him. He watches on, completely enchanted by the other. It’s some time before Roy gives a small bow and leaves the stage. Cole is quick to get up and meet him at the back of the building. It’s almost scary how easily it became routine. At first it was only once in a while, they’d have a quick chat before Cole makes his way home. Now… now he’d be there every time he visits the jazz club.

Roy appears to be expecting him, and flashes a smile. He’s leaning against the wall and Cole approaches him. The older man waves, putting out his cigarette and tossing it in the nearby bin. “...Detective Phelps. So good to see you again.”

“Roy,” Cole nods, returning his smile. “I’ve been promoted to Vice and I wanted to celebrate.” It was more of a half-truth, but he doesn’t admit it. Some part of him just really wanted to see Roy. It didn’t feel… right, but when Roy was there, he didn’t care.

“All on your own, gumshoe? If I’m not mistaken, people celebrate with the company of close friends,” Roy retorts with crossed arms. His eyebrow was raised, but his expression was rather amused. In the past weeks they’ve done this, he’s noticed that Cole was much more loose around him. The man he met on that absolutely  _ dreadful  _ night months ago was much more stiff. Nevertheless, he was glad to see Cole looking much more human.

“I suppose you’ve got me there, Roy. Maybe I just want to see you,” Cole replies, and he catches the slight tilt of the jazz singer’s head, having caught his attention.

“...Care to elaborate on that, Cole Phelps? Now, why on earth could you possibly want to see me?”

“What is there to elaborate on? I want to see you because I enjoy your presence, Roy. Among… other things.”

Roy holds in his breath for a moment, trying to ignore the racking against his ribcage. Voice just a bit more softer now, he asks again. “What things?” He notices Cole leaning in and next thing he knows he’s doing the same. There was something inherently  _ wrong  _ about it, but he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Just like that, Cole’s  _ kissing  _ him and he’s actually kissing back. Before he knows it, Cole has him against the wall, his lips like fire against his skin, but he doesn’t pull back, no matter how much it burned. A small groan escapes his lips and before his hands could even reach for the detective’s buttons, Cole pulls away, almost looking shocked. 

Roy realizes what they were just  _ about  _ to do and looks down at the floor, embarrassed. He’s certain his cheeks are a bright red, too. “I —” he starts, but Cole stops him.

“No, no, i-it’s okay. I— I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I… I should go. You have a nice night, Roy.” 

“...Oh. It’s fine,” Roy replies, doing his best to mask his disappointment. As much as he  _ wanted  _ Cole, to tell him to keep going and pull him back in and kiss him again… he doesn’t. As much as he hated it, he knows there couldn’t possibly be anything between them. “Goodnight, Cole,” he replies, and watches Cole walk off into the lonely sidewalk. He’s not faring any better, what with the ache in his chest. He almost considers lighting another cigarette, but he’s certain it won’t help and refrains, instead stepping back inside the Blue Room.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Cole’s barely focused. He nearly walks into the door of the briefing room when he snaps back at  _ just  _ the right moment. Upon opening the door, he’s greeted by Archie Colmyer, who shakes his hand, quickly ushering him in.

“Cole Phelps, welcome to Vice. Your new partner is Elsa Lichtmann, have a seat,” the lieutenant tells him, gesturing to the woman in question, who was currently seated by her desk. 

Cole nods and takes the empty seat next to her. He’s absentmindedly jotting down notes of the next case, Elsa eyeing him curiously. Eventually she’s noticed that they’ve already been sent off and Cole’s  _ still  _ scribbling on his notepad. Elsa chuckles quietly, standing up and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Cole, we have things to do. Let’s get going.”

Cole looks up, almost looking startled. “Ah— Of course. Let’s go.” He nods, quickly pocketing his little book before following Elsa out. He can’t stop fidgeting his hands for some reason, so he shoves then into his pockets. He’s still thinking about the night before. About Roy. The other might not have mentioned it, but Cole could see the disappointment on his face, the  _ hurt _ . He feels guilty for just leaving him like that, but he’s also guilty for doing it in the first place. He doesn’t realize they’re already outside the Hollywood station before Elsa stops him with a hand on his shoulder, holding him still.

“ _ Cole, _ ” she starts, turning him around to face her. There’s genuine worry in her expression when she speaks. “You were just about to walk into the car. You’re very distracted, you know? Is something the matter?”

Cole blinks at her question, almost surprised at her concern. She wasn’t that bad, if one took the time to get to know her. He offers a gentle smile in return, waving her off. “Just… didn’t sleep very well last night, I suppose.” He hadn’t been completely lying, it  _ had  _ been hard to get a wink of sleep when all he could think about was Roy.

Elsa raises an eyebrow, not too entirely convinced, but lets it slide with a little laugh. “If you’re certain, Cole. I certainly hope a troubled siren didn’t have anything to do with it,” she jokes, fishing her car keys from her pocket. “I would’ve asked you to drive, but I’m a little concerned for your wellbeing right now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Elsa,” Cole quickly retorts, but thankful that he could just sit the ride out this time. He’s certain he’d end up crashing if he was behind the wheel. He takes out his notebook and flips through the pages. “So, the crime scene… ah. Here we go.” Cole relays the address to Elsa and they get there without a hitch. 

Fortunately for Cole, they were quick to follow leads. Two dead junkies that had been hoarding popcorn turned out to be the middle of a giant morphine distribution ring. The two of them worked extremely well together, to both of their delight. Elsa had a sharp eye for finding clues and Cole handled himself well in interrogations. And both of them were absolutely  _ dangerous  _ in shootouts. This proved especially useful at the ice company. Nevertheless, they managed to close the case within the day and managed to stop some of the morphine distribution.

Elsa gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder, giving him a genuine grin. “You did good, Cole. I think this will turn out to be a wonderful partnership.”   


Cole nods, returning her smile. “I think so too, Elsa.”

Elsa raises an eyebrow, thinking for a moment. “We should celebrate. Perhaps a trip to the Blue Room can lift your spirits, don’t you think?”

Suddenly, Cole looks rather uneasy. Almost hesitantly, he shakes his head. “...I’ll have to pass for tonight, Elsa. I think I’ll try to catch up on some sleep.”

“That’s quite unlike you, Cole,” Elsa comments, chuckling. Regardless she doesn’t push further and nods. “But if you insist. I’ll see you at the next case, then.” She gives him one last pat on the back and heads off back to her car. 

Cole watches her walk off, and for the first time in weeks, he’s home early. Even Marie seemed to be shocked when he greets her before the sun’s even set. She’s delighted at the fact, but something was still off. Cole was still… distant. He looked distracted and he had gone straight to bed after having a quiet dinner with her. She doesn’t make a complaint, but she feels a pang hit her chest as she settles back into her chair. Nothing had been the same before and she’s as lonely as ever. Glancing up at the clock, she gets an idea. Maybe she just needed to get out of the house.

She only nods to herself, she was certain a night out would lift her spirits. With that, she sets a date and heads to bed.

 

* * *

 

Much to the squad’s delight, Cole is quick to show his proficiency as the so-called ‘golden boy’ of the LAPD. He’s busy jotting down notes for a new case while Elsa is listening intently to the lieutenant. There had been a shooting at a club, and while he could dismiss it as a homicide, the lieutenant mentioned that syrettes were found at the scene and it was now the Vice squad’s business. Once they arrived at the crime scene, they could only frown at the massacre in front of them. A few musicians and the owner dead. While Bekowsky, who had now made it into Homicide, was a sight for sore eyes, Cole could not feel more saddened when he realizes the owner had been a man from his unit.

 

After a quick inspection of the club, as well as an interview with the hostess, Cole finds a ticket to the Blue Room. And while the thought of the jazz club makes his heart sink, it’s a solid lead. Elsa notices his troubled expression when they’ve stepped out of the club, stopping him for a moment. “...Phelps. Still not sleeping well, I assume?”

“Oh— no, no, it’s not that, Elsa. Just… the owner. He was in my unit in the war. I’m just a little shaken to see him like this,” he replies, and Elsa nods in understanding.

“Ah, I see. I’m terribly sorry to hear about that Cole, I genuinely am.”

Cole gently waves her off and they both get in the car, Cole starting the short drive to the Blue Room. “I appreciate it. I’ll be fine, though, so you don’t need to worry,” he replies, and once he pulls over in front of the jazz club, he sighs deeply and steps out. It was quite strange to see the Blue Room without a crowd waiting at the front doors. When they enter, they hear vague music coming from the room and Elsa’s the first to step in.

Roy’s on the stage, practicing for his set later tonight but the music dies down when the two detectives enter the room. He only frowns at the sight of them and turns to the band behind him. He’s in the middle of telling them to take a break when Cole cuts him off.

“We would like them to stay, Mister Earle,” he interjects and he swears he can see Roy tense up. Regardless, he continues to speak. “We’re looking into the deaths of four musicians and we would like to make some inquiries.”

Roy’s frown only grows, not bothering to spare him a glance. “I don’t know what you expect to find here, Detectives, but we have work to do.”

“The detective said he would like to make some inquiries.” Elsa repeats, frowning at the jazz singer. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten your place again, Roy?” She makes a move to approach him, but Cole intervenes almost a second too soon, blocking him from her.

“Wait— I’ll handle this, Elsa. Why don’t you have a seat? I can take care of this.”

Elsa looks at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow but nods. Backing off, she steps away to cool off.

Roy only gives him a steely look, quiet for a moment. It certainly was hard to be upset when he looked  _ that  _ concerned. Breathing out a sigh, he gestures to a nearby table. “Won’t you have a seat, Detective?”

After a few minutes of tossing questions back and forth, Cole was just about at his wits’ end. Roy was being frustratingly unforthcoming with answers, and while he can understand why, it in no way helps the case. “Look, Roy, I know you’re still upset with… a few things, but if you’d just give me something I’ll be out of your hair quickly.”

Roy only shrugs, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Maybe you should ask questions that actually have answers. This… war you have against narcotics. Do you really think it’s a battle you can win? At the end of the day, people will still feel a need for drugs.”

“It’s not a war, Roy,” Cole fires back, frowning. “I’m just doing my job. Drugs are against the law. I’m just— just trying to make the world a better place.”

The jazz singer shakes his head and stands up, making his way back to the stage. “You’re very noble. But you know words are just words, Cole Phelps.”

Cole’s about to say something else when Elsa approaches him, her arms crossed. “This is a dead end, Cole. We need to find a new lead. Fortunately, I think I know just the place. Right now’s the best time to get to it. Let’s go.”

“Elsa, wait. Let’s— Let’s do this tomorrow. I have another lead I want to follow.”

Elsa gives him a curious look, but she doesn’t press on it. “As long as you know what you’re doing, Cole. Meet me at the Mocambo tomorrow this time, alright?”

Cole nods in understanding and he watches Elsa leave the Blue Room without another word.

 

* * *

 

He’s waited for a few hours now and he eventually sees Roy step out of the Blue Room and into a cab after another night of performing. Something in him was just  _ yelling  _ at him to stop this now and drop it. Go home. Follow the lead that actually pertained to the case. But he ignores it as he starts tailing the other. He just wanted a few more leads from him, that’s all. Nothing more. It almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that it’s just that and before he knows it, he’s at Roy’s apartment building.

Still keeping his distance, Cole takes a quick look at the mailboxes and easily finds Roy’s apartment number. However, when he actually was standing in front of his door, he purses his lips. He was starting to think this was a terrible idea, but he doesn’t stop himself from knocking on the door. He paces back and forth when the door opens. Roy’s already dressed for bed and Cole finds something… alluring about the look. They’re both silent, but Roy opens the door completely for him and he walks in.

Roy sighs. Nothing good was bound to happen with him letting Cole in, but he just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find it in him to stay away. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he looks up at the younger man. “...Are you going to tell me what this is about? This doesn’t have anything to do with your case does it?”

“...No. Nothing like that,” Cole replies, despite him telling himself repeatedly that it was just that. “Just— wanted to talk. Look, I’m really sorry for just… leaving. I guess I panicked. I’ve never really been any good at that sort of thing.” Cole rubs the back of his neck. “Didn’t know how you’d react, I suppose.”

Roy raises an eyebrow and stands up, a little smile playing at his lips. They’re fairly close to one another and he decides to be a bit bold, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I thought it was already obvious.” At this point, he’s positive they weren’t just going to talk. Cole’s arm snaking around his waist seems to prove his theory. “You know, I… didn’t want you to stop.”

“Then… let’s pick up from where we left off.” He barely gives Roy any time to nod before pressing his lips against his. Roy’s quick to reciprocate, and just like before his hands are on Cole’s suit, unbuttoning it one by one as the detective nips at his skin. He inhales sharply and soon enough Cole’s got his top off and he’s being gently pushed back. He doesn’t know how it happens but he feels the soft sheets against his back. “You certainly are an intense one, Detective,” he murmurs, pulling him close to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Can’t help it,” Cole replies, undoing his pants before tugging Roy’s down. “You’ve been on my mind for so long.” He takes a moment to just look at him, adoration evident in his eyes. “God, you’re… you’re beautiful.”

Roy waves him off, but it’s obvious there’s a bit of red on his cheeks. “You flatter me, Cole. I’ve missed seeing you.”

“Well, you have me now. You don’t need to worry.” Cole’s almost scared at how much he meant his statement. A few thoughts run through his head but he’s quick to push them aside. He was just glad to be with Roy again. He glances down for just a moment and he’s positive that they’re both more than happy to see each other again. As such, he wastes no time in positioning himself against Roy, eliciting a little whine from the man.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting, Cole,” Roy says when he feels the detective’s cock prodding at him. He doesn’t stop the groan from escaping his lips once Cole pushes into him. His arms are around his neck, and as impatient he was, he wills for Cole not to move yet. “I— hold on, it— it hurts.”

Cole nods, pressing a little kiss to his forehead. He’s patient enough and after a minute or two he feels Roy tugging at him with another whine and he starts to move. He keeps a slow pace for now, but he finds it more than hard to hold himself back from all the sounds Roy was making.

Roy is easy to lose himself in Cole, running his hands down the detective’s back and sides, along with the occasional tug of his hair. The latter seems to rile Cole up further and Roy’s almost  _ glad  _ he’s going harder. With all the sounds Cole’s getting out of him, it’s damn near impossible to speak. “Cole, I—” he gasps when the man hits him in just the right spot, loosening another loud moan from his lips. “Don’t— Don’t stop.”

“I hadn’t been—” Cole groans when Roy yanks his hair again, rocking his hips in response. “—planning on it. Frankly, I don’t want to,” he murmurs as he quickens his pace. He doesn’t hold back now, even going as far as to wrap his hand around Roy’s cock, stroking it. 

Roy can only throw his head back with a cry. Cole was  _ damn _ good at making him feel a certain way, and he swears he’s already addicted to it. All he could manage to do was reach and grab for the other in an attempt to pull him closer, breathing out his name. He’s starting to feel a warmth in his gut and judging by how sloppy Cole’s getting, he assumes the other feels the same. 

“Cole,  _ Cole _ — I’m almost there, go harder,” he almost begs, his blunt nails raking down the younger man’s back. He eventually goes over the edge, albeit just a few moments before Cole does and he comes, making a mess on both of them. He makes out what sounds to be a whimper when Cole pulls out, but almost immediately smiles when he feels the other’s form against him.

“You know, we really should clean up,” he murmurs and he lets out a quiet laugh when feels small kisses being pressed against his shoulder. “...Well, maybe after you’re done being affectionate.”

“Later,” is all Cole says before taking his hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

* * *

 

A few days later, when Elsa sees Cole at the Blue Room again, she’s more than glad to see him in good spirits. Taking the seat across him as she usually does, she coughs to grab his attention. When he turns to her, he almost looks like he’s glowing. Elsa gives him a smile, taking a quick glance over at the stage. Even Roy sounds like he’s singing more lively. It didn’t take very long for her to connect the dots.

“...Cole. It’s good to see you doing much better,” she tells him, her fingers gently drumming against the table. “Call it woman’s intuition, but I’d think it has something to do with the man on stage?” Her eyebrow is raised, but there’s nothing accusatory in her tone. She watches Cole sputter, his hands fidgeting, and she almost laughs.   
  
“I— Well… yes.” Cole eventually admits, looking quite embarrassed, almost ashamed. “...Elsa, I—” he starts, but the woman cuts him off, shaking her head. 

“Cole, Cole… I can assure you, my lips are sealed. You do not need to worry.”

Cole looks surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re serious?”

“Completely. I know I have never agreed with Roy Earle once, nor have I been on good terms with him… but it’s obvious how happy he makes you. I can see it in your eyes, Cole. I do not wish to interfere with that.”

Cole blinks, silent for a moment. He dips his head in what appears to be gratitude. “I’m… very thankful for that, Elsa. Really, I am.”

Elsa only smiles as she stands up, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Of course. The least I could do for the LAPD’s golden boy,” she jokes, soon making her way out. Before she could leave the room, she spots a lone woman sitting by the bar. She appeared to be dejected and Elsa couldn’t help but approach her carefully. Taking the seat next to her, she orders a drink for herself. “...You seem troubled, Miss. Would talking about it, help?” She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

Marie could only look up from her drink to the woman next to her. Her brows were furrowed in worry, but she could only wave her off with a smile, but the look in her eyes suggest otherwise. “Thank you kindly, but no need to worry yourself over it. I had hoped to have a night for myself tonight, but…” Her voice dies down, before it gets a chance to crack.

Still, Elsa presses on and shakes her head. “I assure you, it’s no problem. Perhaps I could lend a helping hand?”

“I’m afraid this cannot be fixed. My husband, he…” Marie trails off again, her voice getting caught in her throat. Cole had come home earlier, but it was only to tell her that he’d be leaving her. In that moment, all her worst fears had been realized. Her eyes water but she’s quick to wipe them, shaking her head. “...He wants to leave me.”

Elsa frowns and takes a quick glance over to the front. Cole’s attention was back at Roy, as enamored as ever. Facing the young woman next to her, she tries for a smile. “Well, I’m certainly not an expert, but I don’t think sitting here will be any good.”

Marie blinks, and there’s something about the woman’s smile that makes her return it. “...I suppose you’re right, but I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”

“Well, there’s a lot of places here in Hollywood that are worth looking at. Maybe you could join me?” Elsa asks, and then pauses. She’s completely forgotten to introduce herself. “Oh— look at me rambling when you don’t even know my name. Elsa Lichtmann.”

For the first time that night, a small laugh escapes Marie’s mouth and she takes the other’s hand, gently shaking it. “Marie Ph—” she starts, but catches herself immediately.  _ No. Not Phelps. Not anymore.  _ “...Boutin. Marie Boutin.”

“You have a lovely name,” Elsa replies and she stands up, waiting for her. “So, what do you say, Marie? Care to accompany me tonight?”

Marie stares up at her, and she decides she likes hearing her name from the other woman. She nods, graciously taking her hand. “I would love to, Elsa.”

The rest of the evening goes without a hitch, with Elsa driving Marie around and the cool wind blowing through her hair. She finds that Elsa has plenty of stories to tell, and she listens intently. She doesn’t realize how enamored she looks right now, not does she care. What she does notice, however, is how…  _ happy  _ she feels, and how just being in Elsa’s presence lifts her spirits up.

At the end of the night, Elsa’s pulled over in front of her home. Marie looks at the front door with a longing look, realizing she would be left alone that night. And she would be for many more nights to come. But she pushes it aside for now, giving Elsa a gentle smile.

“...Thank you. For showing me a wonderful time. I don’t think I’ve been that happy in weeks,” Marie starts, and without thinking, places her hand over Elsa’s. She almost smiles when the other doesn’t pull away. She likes how it feels, she thinks. Before her thoughts go any further, Elsa replies. There’s a smile on her face and Marie’s certain it makes her heart flutter.

“It was my pleasure, Marie. It looks like it’s helped you some.” Elsa nods, and… she almost doesn’t want to leave. “Well, I suppose I should be on my way. Perhaps we can meet again sometime soon?”

Almost instantly, Marie holds onto her hand just a little tighter, and Elsa’s gaze drifts towards it for a moment. Marie glances down as well and loosens her grip in the slightest. Do… do you have to? I mean— I could use the company. I don’t think my… husband will be home tonight, and—” she goes on, but Elsa stops her, looking a little amused.

“If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t mind at all. Let’s go.” Elsa nods and steps out of her car the same time Marie does. Walking hand in hand with the younger woman, they enter the quiet house. Marie takes a minute or two to dismiss the babysitter and bid her goodnight, leaving just the two of them. 

“Again, I’d really like to thank you for spending time with me. I guess I was more lonely than I thought,” Marie says, chuckling softly. She squeezes Elsa’s hand and she’s elated when the other decides to link their fingers together.

“I suppose we both are, yellow,” Elsa replies, the little nickname almost coming out as loving. She looks at Marie with a gentle smile. She wasn’t expecting it to go this way, but now her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She’s unaware of it, but Marie’s feeling the same thing. She decides to be a bit bold and sits just a bit closer to her. “I suppose this sounds a little strange… and sudden, but— I think I’d like to kiss you.”

Marie’s eyes widen, and she could swear her heart’s about to pop out of her chest. She swallows hard, and for once, her thoughts aren’t on Cole. It was just Elsa. And she’s certain that’s just the way she wants it. She nods, leaning upwards. “...Please do.”

And just like that, Elsa closes the gap between them, and it feels just right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> terribly sorry for the cliffhanger, but it was getting extremely long. whoops.


End file.
